thisavrou | (no subject)

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[Mama Miller is having concerns about the smaller people on board. He often claims to not like children, but he remembers what it felt like to be treated like he should be an adult. He's so good at business because he was running one at the age of ten, because his mother had become ill. He's seen so many child soldiers have their lives stripped away. He thinks that with a little bit more support, they won't grow up to be the type of people he would hire.]

[Better survival rate in general.]

It's come to my attention there are not only a lot of refugee children on board, but a few among the crew as well.

I'm dubious about giving those sorts of jobs to children. Not my call to make, though. What I do think is they should have some sort of education. Reading. Writing. Math. The basics. There's a decent library for materials, and I suspect people willing to tutor. And some activities that don't involve the mess hall or cleaning bathrooms.

They're crew, but they're still kids. They deserve all the advantages of being one.

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[Ocelot respects Miller in a similar way. Sometimes he even likes Miller. Unfortunately, his feelings and his work do not mix. Ocelot is driven by a purpose; the revolution of the world at the hands of Big Boss. That is the only end he commits himself to.]

Yeah, I know a few.

[He wonders what Miller means by that, but Ocelot will help him play. He moves his hand to the strings while letting Miller hold the frets.]

[Now comes the disconcerting part.]

[He's never gotten on especially well with Ocelot, not until this ship and that's just moderately well. But he knows he has to be in a little bit more of a convenient position, so he sits close enough to shove his left shoulder against Ocelot's right and settle the instrument on their legs.]

Folsom Prison? Ain't no Grave? Ring of Fire?

[He wills away an odd, prickly, unsafe feeling. As much as they're getting along, this is a man that can easily take his life. He's sure he can take anything else Ocelot threw at him; after all, he spent ten days suffering torture at the hands of the Russians, severed limbs barely treated, he can handle all kinds of discomfort.]

[But he doesn't particularly want to die, even if part of him is ready to.]

[But he relaxes against his side. He misses the music. He misses the metal under his fingers, those vibrations. He can ignore any dread of discomfort for that small pleasure again.]

[The closeness does not seem to bother Ocelot. It would only bother him if he perceived Miller as a threat, and even then, he wouldn't show it. Miller is no threat at the moment. This was all actually kind of interesting and a bit fun.

As for those that tortured Kazuhira... amateurs. Removing limbs was not really Ocelot's style. His methods tended more toward a mixture of physical and psychological.]

I can do Ring of Fire.

[His fingers brush down the strings once to show he's ready to begin. Playing this way felt unnatural, so it might be a little slow going until they had a rhythm. But he was sure they could do it.]

[He moves his hand along the frets, tapping his foot next to Ocelot's to keep time. Luckily for Ocelot he doesn't actually sing when the actual words should start, instead he just hums.]

[He misses how that feels. Intensely. If he could get a replacement for his arm, he would want to be able to feel that again. More than anything. Because he associates it with happier times. After about thirty seconds or so, he's even completely stopped caring about sharing this discomforting proximity. It's almost even comfortable.]

[The song is a classic, but it's not one Ocelot usually sings. Still, he feels as though he's sort of indulging Miller today, so once the song gets going at a comfortable pace and Miller hums, he goes ahead with the chorus.]

I fell into a burning ring of fire. I went down, down, down, and the flames went higher. And it burns, burns, burns, the ring of fire. The ring of fire.

[He's actually got a decent singing voice. ~~Let's all praise Troy Baker for being so amazing.~~]

[He does have a nice voice, even if he realizes this is a disconcerting song to be singing when one is nigh on about to climb into the other's lap to make this work. So he focuses instead on the fact that the combination of the affected accent Ocelot uses and his voice really works for the song.]

[He does sing with him, but fortunately quietly rather than belting anything out. Not out of self-conciousness, but more because he's not as enthusiastic as he was in his youth. Still, he's enjoying himself enough to sing with him.]

[Even at a slower pace, the song does sound nice. It takes on a different mood with the way they sing it rather than the enthusiasm Johnny Cash puts into it.

And although it's a love song, Ocelot can't help but think both of them are going to be in ring's of fire someday. If there is a heaven or hell, he's sure not going to heaven for all he's done in life. That's why it's so important to create their Outer Heaven on earth.]

Not bad, Miller.

[He says when it's done.]

[He takes the guitar back. letting it rest in his lap with the faintest edge of that smile remaining.] You too.

[It's a short lived happiness. He rarely stays happy for too long, now. But it's there.] Thanks. I'm going to miss doing that. [He turns it so it's slung over his back, reaches out for his crutch, and pulls himself to standing.]

Like I said. I'll make it up to you.

[Ocelot would mention that Miller could play again with a new arm, but Miller knows that. He just has to let himself move on first.]

Don't need to.

[But he's not going to argue it. He doesn't know what Miller would even have in mind.]

Fair is fair. I don't leave unpaid debts.

Better it be these kind. [The ones where he actually genuinely appreciates what was done, that the debt is for something that helped him, rather than a debt of discomfort.]

I'm starting to think that under different circumstances we might have been friends. [At least they're functioning pretty well as close acquaintances, but he's still in a good mood as he says that. Playing the music seemed to help.]

[Ocelot tilts his head at that. Well...]

Circumstances are pretty different right now.

[But that's for Kaz to decide. He's probably smart enough to know, though, that friendship with Ocelot is generally only friendship as far as he's able to use the other party. He's a man that doesn't get attached to many, with Big Boss being the only exception.

Still, it wouldn't be impossible for them to continue to get along here. There would be a benefit in being allies.]

[He is smart enough to know that. He's wary of that about Ocelot for that- he could like someone, and then turn around and hurt them easily. But Miller, for all his capacity to be outright cruel when he was angry with someone, was also someone who enjoyed friends.]

[And he's not had any close ones beyond the phantom for a while.]

I guess they are.

[The fact he came to Ocelot to help him play a guitar is pretty telling. And he seems to be thinking hard about it. Ocelot is not yet the man that goes after David, that kills him. Ocelot's the man he's known for nine years, and even if he kept secrets from him, he remembered his glasses. It's the oddest consideration, but in a small way, it's being remembered as a person. More consideration than Zero gave him.]

[It's that man he might become he has to watch out for.]

You know where my room is. [An open invitation, at least for now, and he excuses himself.]